


Noctem City Needs Mob Members

by JeenaLight, OceansAlliteration



Series: CrewStuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gen, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Minor Violence, Multi, Other, Smut, but the smut comes later, by which i mean people will get hurt but prob wont die, for now its just fluff, if john and nep were anything its a pale grey, its john/eq black btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3213527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeenaLight/pseuds/JeenaLight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceansAlliteration/pseuds/OceansAlliteration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this all came about because I wondered what would happen if everybody was in the mob. This is what would happen apparently. It's just a bunch of dabbles and short fics about the cast and what happens when you give a bunch of goobers weapons training and a lack of moral standards. Enjoy CrewStuck!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noctem City Needs Mob Members

The Metropolitan Museum of Joint Species Culture is generally regarded as one of the most poignant symbols of cooperation in Noctem City. The hallowed halls of the building house artifacts and donations from so many era’s and places that other museum’s would trade their entire stock of exhibits, to get just one from JSC. The Carapace’s long history and mythos take up two entire wings to the north and east, their legends of gods and monsters giving the ancient Greeks and Romans a serious run for their money. The display cases are filled with prototypes, tools, and models of important structures from their two moons and several dozen planets. Adorning the walls of their wings are paintings, tapestries, and tablets excavated painstakingly from their systems planets centuries ago. All of them preserved carefully on the decades long journey from the home-world, Skaia, to the planet commonly called Terra now.

These pieces of history and science have brought ‘ _a wealth of new cultural understanding to the Human populace, and are treasured additions to the planet Terra’s historical archives_ ,’ as every cheery liaison to the public would rush to say. Never mind that the floors in these wings of the building are rarely waxed as well as the others, and the glass cases are left to their films of dust and water spots. There are, however, a few priceless pieces of Carapacian history that even the Human race can appreciate in their full scope. One such piece is on display for a comparative exhibit between Human and Carapacian burial rituals throughout ancient times. A statuette barely a foot tall, but so heavy that a forklift and miniature crane were required to place it on its pedestal, encrusted with strange jewels and markings regarded as luck charms for the dead in the afterlife.

Now the statue sits upon its place of honor next to human canopic jars, Viking burial skiffs, and every kind of embalming tool. A serene little Rook, content to let the ages pass by. Of course, this being the JSC Museum the entire exhibit is protected throughout the night by an array of full 360° cameras, sensors over every square inch of floor, ceiling, and wall, and a set of infrared and semi harmful lasers. This alongside no less than an inch of crystal clear, bullet proof, glass. And the cherry on the sundae, a well-trained, highly skilled, and very punctual guard.

The entire night is looking to be very interesting for two individuals with less than noble intentions.

 

A young man relaxes in a vent, barely big enough to house his frame, and waits patiently for the right time to aerial ninja his way into the chamber below. It strikes him as hilarious that for all their precautions in securing their building, the Museum of Joint Species Culture didn’t secure their vent system. Obviously they had never seen ‘Men in Black’ or ‘Mission Impossible,’ because everybody knew that the noble thief would always use the vents to steal the priceless something-or-other that will make them rich. This oversight is currently proving all too beneficial to him and his ends. The museum will likely have a different view on the matter.

John fails entirely to care about that. What he does care about is sitting twenty feet below him and is encased in what feels like enough security protocols to protect Fort Knox, the Pentagon, and Mr. President, all at the same time. And he is just confident enough in his abilities that he thinks he has a shot at nabbing it. Right on time he hears alarms blaring through the air. And directly into his ear because the fucking speaker is right next to the goddamn vent. That hurts. He grimaces briefly at the ringing now taking up residence in his ears, then he decides to get the hell on with his job. The group of idiots who tripped thesensors in the Troll’s wing were, predictably, stupid enough to get caught in the act. His intel from the Crew said the guards would be all over them, leaving other exhibits unguarded. As long as the alarms are blaring through the building John has some cover to grab the relic. Smirking he puts his fist through the vent cover below him and attaches his line to the bolts in the top of the duct.

He then dives, headfirst, out of the metal vent and twists in mid-air to a repelling position. With his hacker working outside the security cameras will be blanked out for the next ten minutes and the alarms should stay on long enough to let him get his prize. Keeping his eye on the glass case below he lowers his frame through the air on his rope, using his arms to slowly release the line clipped to his belt and harness. John has never trusted automatic gear and instead does all the heavy lifting himself. The intrepid thief continues in his way until he’s just a few feet above the case, then he reaches to his Sylladex for his glass cutters and mirrors. The deck easily spits out what he needs, the Basic setting chosen for this job.

The lasers above the case are annoying and would leave him with a nice burn if he were to get caught by one, so John is necessarily really fucking careful as he sets up his ‘deflection field’ around the case. The lasers safely diverted he gets to work on the thick glass. The cutters feel clumsy in his hands, the blade slipping and turning where he doesn’t want it to. He really needs to cash in on that BladeKind training Dave promised him, and soon. He’s breathing heavy now from leaving his body twisted for so long, his time is ticking away and he needs to hurry. Scoring the glass steadily his thoughts are interrupted by a voice from above him.

‘Mothpurr Fuckfur, this had better be a purractical joke beclaws if it’s not I’m gonna cut a bitch!’ The high, clear, voice holds a distinct note of irritation.

John looks up in shock as a small troll slides down his line toward him. Her lithe form is covered from head to toe in black, climbing gloves covering her hands and claws, and a black cat hat over her dark hair an conical horns. She stops just above his body and looks down at him in distain, lips pursed and eyebrows low over her yellow orbs.

‘What the fuck are you doing you dumbass!’ he cries as he feels the line tremble above them. The fibers are meant to hold heavy things, but two people is probably pushing the strength of the bolts in the vent above them. He has, maybe, six more minutes to get the hell out before his hacker gives up control of the cameras.

‘I’m trying to do my job you little squeak-beast! And you are stepping in a very bad way mousie! I’m with the Crew and this is my score.’ Her head tosses with obvious contempt for who she thinks is a common thief, proudly showing off a black leather collar with the midnight crews pennant hanging down. Well the cat-troll is about to get hit with a reality check, John thinks as he smiles meanly up at her.

‘Looks like I’ve finally met one of my coworkers then. I’m pulling this score for the Crew too.’ John pulls out his own pennant from beneath his shirt, the black hat and MC standing out boldly from the sheer white metal. His glare could kill puppies it is so full of ire. She looks at him contemplatively for a moment and then drops a few more inches down the line. Thankfully the thin braid holds firm this time, and John lets out the breath he’s been holding. The troll looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, cogs visibly turning in her head.

‘Purrhaps we can make an arrangement mousie?’ she literally says ‘purrhaps’ John doesn’t know whether to find that adorable or annoying.

‘What kind of arrangement are we talking Pussy Galore?’ he smirks at the reference and at her narrowed eyes.

‘The kind where if we help each othpurr out, we get out faster, split the credit, maim the purrick who gave us the faulty info, and don’t get our tails handed to us by the bosses?’ her face says innocent but her eyes say something so dark he gives her a decent measure of respect for it.

‘Fair enough, help me get this glass out of the way, we have five more minutes and then my hacker has to pull out.’

‘Oh? Shame they have to pull out, I’d think you would prefur to keep them in.’ she’s smirking again. Ugh, why is she cute and annoying at the same time?

‘Funny I was thinking the same about you Meowth.’

‘An amulet charm would do me some good right now actually, I would have something to strangle you with and I would get a better pay out.’

‘Okay pussy cat, want me to send you blasting off again?’

‘Only if you’re coming with me Wobbafett.’

That made the both of them smile as they kept on with the glass. The easy banter they had already falling as a nice counterpoint to the stress on the rope (John still very worried about the vent’s ability to hold them) and the worry over how much time they had left. A moment later the glass finally gives way and a circle about and inch thick pops out in the troll girls hand. Her satisfied smirk looks even more menacing with her fangs on display like that, he thinks as he quickly captchalogs the relic in his sylladex. Hopefully he won't need to fight any large groups of people because his deck tends to misbehave in combat situations. He'd hate to accidentally kill somebody because the score went flying.

John turns to the cat-troll and gives her a thumbs up, grin turned on full force. She grins back and begins scaling the rope carefully, John right behind her. They are almost to the vent shaft when a shout below them lets them know that this night just got a lot more interesting. The guard who let out the shout is already talking into a comm on his shoulder cluing the others into the second heist being committed under the cover of the first. Soon the room will be crawling with them and the vents will be covered not long after that. If the two want to get out they know they have to work fast.

John quickly slides his mask over his face as the troll above him does the same. They hurry up the rope and start bolting through the vent as fast as they can without it collapsing underneath them. The girl seems to know her way and John's glad because it would suck if she got them lost. While they move John radios his hacker,

'Hey TA, we've been compromised. The guards spotted us as we were climbing up and we need some backup!'

'What the ever-loving fuck EB! I had thoth thecurity meathurth in plath for god knowth how long and you jutht blew it! And whatth thith "we" crap?'

'Another member of the Crew showed up for the same reason. Some bastard probably gave us faulty intel and sent us both here. We decided to work together and just kill the guy later. But that's not important right now, whats imoportant is you getting the guards off our asses and keeping the vents cleared so we can get the hell out!'

'Yeah, Yeah, jutht hold your thit down for two thecondth.' faint clicking of a keyboard can be heard and a moment later, 'Got it, you thould be cleared if you go in the vent coming up to your right. That'll take you to the loading dockth and me. Don't be late athhole or I will leave without you.'

'Got it.' with that John relays the information to his companion and they take a right in the vents. As predicted they get to the loading docks with little fuss. The pair dropped down onto a stack of crates a moment later and make their way down. Only to find themselves facing ten tranq guns pointed at their chests. Great.

'Hey wobbafett?'

'Yeah Pussy Galore?'

'On the count of three we move, I'll take the ones on the right.'

'You got it.'

'Ready? THREE!'

The two explode into motion. John feels his hammer drop into his hands and he lifts it just in time to block the dart which came flying at him. Then he rushes forward in the direction it came from, arms cradling the hammer and swinging to the left trying to cripple the guard. The head strikes flesh and ribs crack under its force, John doesn’t have time to care before he's turning around to swing back at another guard behind him, hitting them in the shoulder and dislocating it. He hefts it back onto his shoulder and turns again, ducking down to avoid another dart and springing forward from his crouch to swing down on the forearms of the shooter, braking wrists and forcing them to drop the gun. He tucks into a roll from his jump and comes up taking out the legs of the last two guards on his side in one deft motion, knocking them unconscious when they hit the ground.

He peeks over at the troll wondering if she'll need assistance and summarily decides that she does not. Four of her five guards are lying on the ground bleeding from wicked cuts and scratches on their arms, legs, faces, and backs. The fifth is trying to dislodge the cat-troll as she clings to his back savagely. John cant figure out what she's doing until she uses him as a spring board and flips to a crouch on the ground, only to use her momentum to spring back at him and run him through on her long clawed gloves.

The guard chokes and slumps down taking her and her arms with him for a moment. He watches as she dispassionately pulls her hands away from the body and stashes her claws back in her strife deck. He does the same with his hammer and the two break out into a run for the door of the loading bay where their ride is waiting on them.

The van is where TA said it would be, the troll himself sitting in the front seat waiting impatiently for the two to finally catch up. He's not overly surprised to see them rush out covered in blood, but it still annoys him because they are going to stain the upholstery so bad. They jump into the van and slam the doors closed quickly as the hacker stomps the gas and books it out of the lot. Apparently deciding to be a bit of a shit he turns to John, sitting in the passenger seat, and says,

'Tho, how'd it go?' a smirk playing around his lips and mangled fangs.

'You know perfectly well how it went you complete dick.' And theres the glare John only uses when he's really mad.

'True. But tell me any-fucking-wayth. I wanna know jutht how bad you managed to thcrew thith up, and I wanna hear it from you.'

John sighs and pulls his mask off his face, running a hand through his dark hair and slumping over in his seat a bit. This night could not be any more of a train wreck. Of course John has been wrong before.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to get chapter 2 up soon, but with my track record I make no promises. Next chapter will be Kan/Rose though so look forward to inter-species lesbians being cute and fluffy.


End file.
